


Harry Barton-Stark

by IHScribe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton/Loki is mentioned, Gen, but doesn't actually take place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHScribe/pseuds/IHScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To stop the Master of Death from destroying the universe, Loki travels to the past to change the boy’s life and finds that two of the Avengers may be the key to doing so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Barton-Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Fandoms: Harry Potter, The Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe
> 
> Characters: Harry Potter, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Loki
> 
> Prompt 1: Hawkeye being related to Harry in some way
> 
> Prompt 2: Tony being Harry's dad or uncle
> 
> Prompt 3: Loki being in Harry's life before, during, and after Hogwarts (if Harry goes there at all)
> 
> Prompt Made By: Jostanos
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless I. H. Scribe is listed after Prompt Made By chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.

They were gone.

Harry Potter hit his knees, staring at the Burrow in horror. The home of the Weasley Family had been blown to pieces and the Weasleys had been inside – all of them.

Ron and Hermione, his best friends.

Arthur and Molly, the couple that had taken him in.

Bill and Fleur, visiting from France.

Charlie and his wife, Percy and his wife, George and his wife.

Even Harry's own wife, Ginny.

And worst of all, all of the Weasley and Potter children that had come to see their grandparents.

They were gone.

Death was there – a woman's form, skeletal, but with long blonde hair. Death could take whatever form it wished. When dealing with its Master, it took the form of his maternal grandmother, though far more skeletal than she had been.

"Give me your scythe," Harry said.

Death silently handed it to him. Harry Potter was the Master of Death; to disobey him would mean the end of its existence and Harry becoming Death – something he was not ready for.

"Where will you go?" Death asked. "What will you do?"

"Wherever the people who did this are," Harry answered. "I will end them and anyone who aided them."

* * *

It was a long list of people. The few remaining Death Eater supporters had hired assassins from HYDRA. Harry killed the supporters, and the Death Eaters that had avoided justice, as well as the families of the Death Eaters. Then Harry went after HYDRA, and because Hydra had infiltraded SHIELD, SHIELD was also added to his list, as well as the Avengers, since they were also associated with SHIELD.

Anyone or anything with even the slightest connection to anyone or anything that had something to do with the death of his family fell before the Master of Death. Dr. Strange and the other magic users on Earth all gathered to stop him. Odin even sent the magic users of his own people to aid them.

All except one heeded the call.

Loki watched as Harry Potter wreaked destruction across the world. He would not stop for anything, there would always be a new connection to chase down and kill. The Master of Death was an immortal, unstoppable, killing machine, and he would end the world Loki had intended to rule.

The only way to stop him would be to prevent whatever atrocity had set him off.

"You do not have the power to go back far enough," Death said.

"Something must be done," Loki said. "He will not stop with Midgard. Thor's presence in the Avengers has already put Asgard in his sights. The other realms will come to the aid of Asgard, putting them in his sights, and it will continue, until he has killed everyone. And then what use would  _you_  be, Death?"

"I said you do not have the power to go back far enough, not that I would stop you."

"Why wouldn't you? It is your  _Master_  that is doing this after all."

"He has not ordered me to stop you. Nor has he ordered me to not give you aid."

"Aid?"

"You do not have the power to go back far enough," Death repeated.

"How far must I go back?"

"There is no way to prevent the death of his family with the way he was raised. You must go very near to his beginning. The night he is left on the doorstep of his mother's sister."

"And do what? Surely, you do not expect me to raise him? Although," Loki trailed off. Having the Master of Death at his command would ensure his victory over this tiny planet.

"My Master is not yours to raise,  _Jotun runt_ ," Death said. Loki glared at Death, who ignored him and continued, "There is a spell in your arsenal to identify the family of an individual."

There was. Loki had used it to confirm his own heritage.

"What of it?"

"To keep his family from dying, my Master will need to be raised differently. I will leave the choice of which one you leave him with – his biological father, or his mother's half-brother."

"What good does this planning do, if I can't reach the point in time I need to?"

"I said  _you_  did not have the power to go back far enough," Death repeated again. " _My_  power is more than sufficient."

"And why would you aid me in acting against your Master?"

"My Master did not order me not to aid you," Death said, "and, if he were in his right mind, capable of seeing past his grief, he would agree to this course of action. There is no time left to waste Loki Laufeyson. Be gone from this time."

Death waved its hand, and Loki's breath was knocked from him as he was sent tumbling through time.

* * *

Loki landed in a rosebush, which was a problem, as it was a rather prickly rosebush with lots of thorns. Had Death been around, Loki would have glared at it, but he was alone, or almost nearly alone. It was night time, and a few houses down there was a magical signature. It was far too old to be that of a baby, so the boy who would become the Master of Death was not yet here to be placed on the doorstep of his mother's sister.

Loki extricated himself from the rosebush, throwing it a dark glare while contemplating whether setting it on fire would draw too much attention to himself, before turning himself invisible and heading towards the magical signature he had sensed. The magical signature in question belonged to a cat, either a familiar with magical abilities, or a shapeshifter then. Even Midgard's more secluded magic users were capable of shifting into animal form.

The cat, as it turned out, was a shapeshifter, shifting into her human form shortly after an older male magic user had arrived. As the man did not have a baby, Loki tuned out most of the conversation, only beginning to pay attention again when a rumbling sound filled the air.

A flying motorcycle with a man the size of Volstagg on it landed in front of the magic users. And he pulled the future Master of Death out of one of his coat's many pockets. The woman, at least, was appalled by this, and would have no doubt torn into the large man had the older man not stopped her.

Loki only had to wait a few more minutes before the three left, before picking the boy up and strolling away.

* * *

It would be two hours before Loki found shelter sufficient enough for his purposes and he could cast the heritage spell on the child. As Harry slept peacefully, his family tree spun itself into a large cloth. What Loki found there was interesting.

Instead of Harry's own name (Harrison James Potter) coming down from the solid line (signifying marriage) between James Potter and Lily Evans, it came down from the dotted line between Lily Evans and Anthony Stark.

The Man of Iron was the Master of Death's biological father.

And it was not the only surprise. While Lily and Petunia Evans shared a mother, they did not share a father, and Lily's father had two sons, both by different women, one of which Loki recognized.

The Hawk he had stolen from SHIELD in his first attempt to rule Midgard was the Master of Death's uncle.

The Master of Death was related to two Avengers, both of which he had killed in the future.

Death had mentioned that he could give the child to whichever of the two he chose. Of the two, the Hawk was far easier for him to control – he had, after all, been inside the man's head at one point even as the man spilled his secrets and those of his friends so willingly – and while he could not raise the Master of Death himself – even Loki would not go against a being as dangerous as Death without reason – he could certainly ensure his place in the boy's life by playing the Hawk. That settled Loki's decision.

Clint Barton was about to become a father, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

"No," Barton said. "Absolutely not." Loki scowled at him.

"There are three options. You-"

"Not going to happen."

"Petunia and her husband, and his biological father," Loki finished as if Barton hadn't said anything.

"Why don't you give him to Petunia, then?" Barton asked.

"He will have the same gifts as his mother, except even stronger. Do you really thing that he will be safe there?"

Barton looked uncomfortable, obviously reaching the conclusion Loki wanted him to – that Petunia and Vernon would be an abusive environment.

"His biological father, then," Barton said. "Why not him?"

"Anthony Stark," Loki said. "It would take months to get the company to acknowledge the claims, and weeks after that for the DNA test to prove it, time which the boy will spend in foster care of some sort."

Barton looked even more uncomfortable. Foster care had not been kind to him, Loki knew. He would not allow his nephew to go through the same thing.

"Not to mention he's a womanizing alcoholic," Barton muttered darkly. Loki grinned inwardly – Barton would certainly take the boy in now. His own father had been an alcoholic of the abusive variety, leading to him and Barney being in foster care in the first place.

"Will you take the boy or not?"

"Fine," Barton sighed.

"Very well. We will need to leave shortly, regardless of this  _circus'_  schedule."

"We?"

"The boy's parents were killed by an insane magic user, who was displaced from his body. Even if he doesn't immediately get his body back, he still has several willing and loyal followers all capable of magic, not to mention what the other side of their so called  _war_  wishes for the boy. Do you really believe you can take them on by yourself?"

"And you can?"

"Unlike you,  _I_  have magic, a magic far greater than those insular, backwards, wand-waving fools, at my disposal. Magic, which I will use to protect the boy from those that would harm him. Unless you would rather I leave. Perhaps your _brother_  could help you protect the boy, hmm?"

"No!" Barton yelled. He took a deep breath, and said it quieter, "No. Barney can't know about him." Barney had tried to get Lily to use her powers to his advantage and he had been nearly apoplectic when she refused. A chance to raise a child with the same abilities and take his revenge on Lily – Barney would jump at the chance. Harry wouldn't last long.

"We'll leave tonight," Barton said, eyeing the boy asleep in Loki's arms. "You'll need to take him until then. Barney can't find out about him at all."

"Very well. Tonight then."

* * *

**Six Years Later**

* * *

Harry Potter was a well-adjusted seven-year-old boy, raised by his Uncle Clint – a part-time assassin, which Harry wasn't supposed to talk about, and part-time bartender of the only bar in the small town where they lived – and Mr. Loki – who taught him all sorts of things that he could do with magic, which Harry  _also_ wasn't supposed to talk about, and who glared at the women and men in town when they teased him about being Uncle Clint's 'special' friend (whatever that meant), which he would emphatically deny every time it was brought up.

Today, Harry was on his first school field trip to a museum in another town an hour and a half away. The museum had a new special exhibit on DNA, including a machine that would test the DNA of all the students in the class. Harry was as excited as his classmates, not that they were going on a field trip, but rather that they were going out of the small town. Harry, as well as many of his classmates, had never been anywhere outside the town before, except to Mr. McGregor's farm to pick pumpkins for Halloween, but that didn't count as it was only a five minute drive from town (most of which was spent driving up the long dirt road that connected Mr. McGregor's house to the main road).

The students all 'ooh'ed and 'ahh'ed as they were led around the museum, before they finally arrived at the DNA exhibit. One by one the students had their cheek swabbed and were taken through the process of preparing their DNA for the machine – a brand new one which could analyze and compare a sample of DNA to all the samples in the databases it was connected too within an hour.

The students were taken for lunch while they awaited the results. Upon their return, each student was given an envelope to give to their parents, concerning the results of the DNA. Susie and her mother would find her paternal grandmother; Ricky and his father would find an uncle, the father's half-brother he didn't know about; all of the other students' samples found no matches (although Melissa's would reveal the possibility of an illness that her parents would take her to the doctor for, and catching it early, save her from a slow and painful death down the line), except one.

Harry Potter had matched to Anthony Stark.

The new DNA analysis machine had access to the database of the company usually used by Stark Industries to test DNA for paternity claims. It not only printed out the results, it also alerted the company in question, which in turn, would then alert Stark himself.

* * *

Both the museum and the school had agreed to keep Harry's DNA results quiet, agreeing that a womanizing alcoholic, no matter who he was, would be a bad role model for Harry. None of them had been aware that the machine would send the results out to anyone else.

Clint was therefore completely unprepared for Tony Stark to walk into the bar he was working at a week after the field trip. The bar patrons were equally unprepared for Clint's reaction, which was to let out a loud, "Fuck."

"What's 'fuck' mean?" Harry asked. He was, as usual, doing his homework at a small desk set up behind the bar.

"It's a word you're not allowed to say," Clint said, slipping a quarter into the jar on the shelf labeled 'SWeAR JaR' in childish handwriting. "See, bad word. Go see Mr. Loki." Clint ruffled Harry's hair, and shooed him towards the door leading to the room Loki usually reserved for himself.

"I take it you're aware of why I'm here, then?" Tony asked.

"We don't need anything. He doesn't know, and I didn't tell you because you're a womanizing alcoholic."

"You're his…?"

"Uncle. His mother was my half-sister. Her half-sister and her husband would have abused him, and so would my brother."

"I wouldn't have."

"You're an alcoholic. They're all abusive bastards," Clint said, slipping another quarter in the Swear Jar.

"Coming from a man tending bar?"

"Anyone who comes in here for three days straight gets cut off, I tell the guys at the liquor store not to sell them either, and then I point them towards AA. Anyone who causes a problem gets the cops called on them."

"He's my son."

"He's my nephew. And we don't need anything from you. You don't have to be here."

"What if I want to be?"

"No more drinking,  _at all_ , and you'd have to cut back on the whole sleeping-with-anything-that-moves thing."

"Done."

Clint froze, "What?"

"Done. No more alcohol, no sleeping around while I'm with Harry."

"And less sleeping around while you're not with Harry."

Tony grimaced, but agreed with a sigh, " _And_  less sleeping around while I'm not with Harry. Okay? Can I see my son now?"

Luckily, Tony's first meeting with Harry would go much smoother than his first meeting with Clint.

* * *

**Four Years Later**

* * *

Clint had been recruited into SHIELD while on one of his jobs, and had immediately moved him, Harry, and Loki to California with Tony. Tony had JARVIS hack into SHIELD's database so he could keep track of Clint when he went on missions.

Obadiah and Pepper had both been surprised when Tony called out of work and then invited them to meet his son. Harry had attached himself to Pepper as quickly as he had attached himself to Tony, but was shy and reluctant to be near Obadiah.

Clint had brought Natasha shortly after, and Harry grew just as attached to her as he did to everyone but Obadiah. Even Coulson, Clint and Natasha's handler, called Uncle Phil by Harry, spent quite a bit of time at the Stark House.

It was no surprise then, that Tony's kitchen was full of people in the morning. Natasha was, by far, the best cook of all of them, even if she did make the weirdest of dishes (both Clint and Tony were sure that she was doing that solely to screw with them).

The surprise, instead, came from the haggard-looking owl that flew in through the window, and began hopping on one leg, thrusting the other out for someone to take the envelope attached to it. The envelope was made of thick parchment and in a deep green ink was addressed to:

_Mr. H. J. Potter_

_The Blue Bedroom Facing the Ocean_

_Stark Household_

_Unplotable_

"What the hell?" Tony said. Clint immediately grabbed the Swear Jar and shook it in Tony's face. Tony added a quarter, before telling Harry, "Don't say that word."

"I insured they wouldn't be able to track his address through magic," Loki said. "I'm surprised they managed to get as much as they did."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You're acceptance letter to Hogwarts," Loki said. He had debated whether he would suggest Harry goes to Hogwarts or stays with them. The longer he was around Harry the easier the boy would be to manipulate (nothing had changed his plans, much less the large family he had acquired, Loki told himself), but he would be unlikely to collect the items that would make him the Master of Death.

"Aren't there any closer schools?" Tony asked.

"Salem, which serves solely witches. Houston, which teaches mostly animal-themed magic. Boston, which is more technology based, but run by Alex Riester."

Tony winced; he had met Alex Riester once – it hadn't ended well. Tony had the ears and tail of a jackass for a week, and Riester had been set on fire, twice.

"None of which," Loki continued, "are as good as Hogwarts anyway."

"You could teach him," Clint said. "You have been for years."

"I've little left to teach him," Loki admitted. Harry had taken to his magic lessons very well, and absorbed everything Loki taught him like a sponge.

"That other guy, what's his name, Strong?" Tony said.

"Dr. Strange," Coulson corrected.

"Yeah, him. He could teach Harry."

"Harry would need far more patience and a larger attention span than he has now," Loki said. All of them looked at Harry, who blushed and shrugged. Last time he was required to be patient, he had gotten bored and decided to paint Dummy.

Tony still found the occasional streak of bright pink paint that he had missed when he had cleaned the robot off.

"So he attends a non-magical school while he grows up a little, until Strange can teach him."

"I already did all the work for high school," Harry said. After moving to California, Tony had offered to let Harry work through school at his own pace, with the excuse that he got to spend more time with Harry.

"There's college," Natasha pointed out.

"Which I can do online," Harry said. "Dad's made his computers and Dummy and U and JARVIS all work around magic. You can do it to a laptop, can't you?"

Even if Harry hadn't been using the dreaded puppy-dog eyes, Tony would have said, "Of course I can."

"So I can go to Hogwarts? Please?" Harry switched his puppy-dog eyes from Tony to Clint repeatedly.

Clint sighed, "Only if Loki goes with you."

"What?"

"You can be a cat or something, can't you? The man who killed his mother and step-father is still out there, as are his minions, and didn't you mention something else about the people on the opposite side of their little war?"

"Fine, but I refuse to be a cat, horrible things." Cats, whether they were the smaller domestic breeds, or the larger ones in cages at the zoo, hated Loki with a passion, a feeling which he had learned to return after the second one had attacked him.

"An owl or a toad, then," Harry said, showing him the list of required items for Hogwarts. "See, it says 'an owl or cat or toad'."

"So it does," Loki said. He glared at the list as though his stare would change it. "An owl then," he finally decided. He'd rather be a cat than a toad, and he'd rather not be a cat at all.

"So I can go?"

"Yes, you can go," Tony said.

"Yes!"

* * *

Harry was nearly jumping up and down in excitement as the Hogwarts express traveled to its destination. To avoid the crowd that would come with the Boy-Who-Lived being sighted (Harry was never fond of crowds), Loki had taken Pepper and Natasha to Diagon Alley, where the three picked up his school supplies and examined the uniform that he needed for school (which Tony's tailor would be making for them instead).

His wand was the only thing he was truly needed to get himself, so Loki had taken him to an American who made custom-fit wands, as well as giving him a holly wand he had pulled from his pocket, saying Harry would need it one day. Harry had already read through the books (his course books and several extras) that Pepper and Natasha had picked up several times, trying to memorize all the new things at once. And now, finally, he was on his way to Hogwarts.

"Look at this Fred," George said. "An ickle firsty, excited to go to Hogwarts."

"So it is, and, wait, I thought I was George!" Fred said.

"Right. I'm George, and you're Fred!"

"Right. So, tell us, ickle firsty, you wouldn't happen to have seen our friend Lee Jordan. Tall, dark skinned, dreadlocks in his hair? He has a tarantula he was gonna show us."

"Spiders aren't all that fun, unless you know someone who is scared of them," Harry said. "And, no, sorry, haven't seen him."

"Our littlest brother is terrified of them," George said.

"Keeps turning green if we so much as mention it," Fred said, grinning.

"Better be careful," Harry said. "You wouldn't want him to be sorted into Slytherin because he matches the house colors, would you?"

Fred and George froze and then turned to each other.

"You don't think that could happen, d'you?" Fred asked George.

"I dunno," George answered. "I don't think so. You know what, Fred?"

"What, George?"

"I think we've been had! Hey, where'd he go?"

"Where did he go!?" Fred exclaimed. Harry had turned himself invisible while they weren't paying attention.

"A firsty had us going!" George yelled. "A firsty!" He and Fred grinned at each other.

"You know what, George?"

"What, Fred?"

"I think this year is going to be fun!"

* * *

"I read about it in  _Hogwarts, A History_ ," Hermione said, after telling them all about the ceiling in the Great Hall.

" _The Magic of Hogwarts_  goes into more detail about it," Harry told her. "Did you know it's actually a series of charms, rather than a single enchantment?"

"Is it? But  _Hogwarts, A History_ -"

"Changes so much with every edition, it's practically worthless. You should compare the current version with the version that was out thirty years ago. Half of the information from the older one is missing, and what  _is_  in the newer one, nearly always contradicts the older one. And the older version is the exact same way with the version that was out thirty years before that."

"But, but-" Hermione began sputtering.

And then a hat began singing about where it would sort them and McGonagall began calling them up one by one. Harry was surprised when right after Hannah Abbot was sorted into Hufflepuff, McGonagall called out, "Barton-Stark, Harry." Harry went up to the stool and McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

"Now, where to put you, hmm," he heard the hat whisper. "You're certainly ambitious enough for Slytherin, courageous enough for Gryffindor, smart enough for Ravenclaw, and loyal enough for Hufflepuff. I haven't had the chance to sort someone who fit so well into all the houses in centuries! How delightful. Now, let's see, hmm.

"Slytherin and Gryffindor are both out, I'm afraid. In either house, you'll have sent half of them to the hospital wing within a week and the other half terrified of you. No, no, best not put you with one of them unless absolutely necessary, no matter what the Headmaster would like."

"What would the Headmaster like?"

"Gryffindor, so you would be in the same dorm as the youngest Weasley boy. Weasleys are always in Gryffindor, and always spout things about how great and righteous the Headmaster is. Ah, I see you've met his older twin brothers. Hah, you got them so easily. What a hoot. You know, he is so green, I just might put him in Slytherin."

"How about Ravenclaw then?"

"Hmm, after the way you handled young Miss Granger so confrontationally, maybe not. Most of the Ravenclaws are of similar beliefs, that books are always right."

"Sounds stupid, but I could put up with it if that rumor about Ravenclaw having a private library is true."

"It is, but all that's in it is the various editions of  _Hogwarts, A History_ , stupid book."

"Ah, you should probably tell Granger that. That leaves Hufflepuff, right?"

"Right. The House of the Loyal. You would certainly do well there. Hmm, yes, I do believe it is the best place for you after all. HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry joined Hannah Abbot at the Hufflepuff table, and Susan Bones joined them almost right afterwards. The sorting continued, but Harry only paid a little attention to it. Enough to know that Granger went into Ravenclaw, the pompous blonde boy Loki had told him to avoid went into Slytherin, and that Kevin Entwhistle, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Wayne Hopkins, Megan Jones, Ernie Macmillian, and Olivia Rivers joined him, Hannah, and Susan in Hufflepuff.

Then McGonagall called out, "Weasley, Ron." and the hat hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, before yelling out, "SLYTHERIN!"

There was pure silence in the hall, and then Ron let out a squeaky, shaky, "What!?"

"Nah, I'm just joking," the hat said. "Gotta get my kicks somehow. You're in Gryffindor with the other Weasleys."

Ron let out a nervous, but relieved, laugh and sat at the Gryffindor table, as the last student (Blaise Zabini) was sorted into Slytherin.

As he began to pile food onto his plate, Harry heard one of the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table say, "My heart stopped for a second! I thought for sure that other firsty was right!"

* * *

Loki prowled the darkened halls of Hogwarts, grumbling out words that would have insured he'd have already begun putting several dollars' worth of quarters in the Swear Jar. What sort of man actually allowed a school to open when there was a possibility of the students losing their lives in part of it.

Dumbledore apparently.

Loki was relieved that his spell to ensure no one would connect Harry Potter to Harry Barton-Stark or ask any questions about Harry Potter's lack of attendance to Hogwarts had worked at the very least.

Still, to protect the boy, and the other students by default, Loki would be checking out the third floor corridor that was off limits and insure that no students could get in.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily, as he rubbed his forehead. All the tracking devices (which had only ever returned ' _out of range_ ' before now) he had monitoring Harry Potter's health and location said he was happy, healthy, and here at Hogwarts.

But "Potter, Harry," hadn't been called.

The only Harry that  _had_  been called was Barton-Stark.

There was something he was missing; something that was right smack dab in front of his large misshapen nose. What was it? Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his forehead again.

* * *

A Cerberus of all things. Loki had only encountered one once before, or rather Thor had. Luckily, Loki knew he only needed music to put the beast to sleep, rather than have to kill it as Thor had the other one.

A plant, one Loki had seen instructions on how to deal with in the first year's Herbology textbook.

A room of flying keys, with a door not even locked.

A giant chess set; Loki didn't even bother to play across it, merely willing himself to the otherside of the room.

A mountain troll. That could be a problem, if it weren't sleeping. Loki snuck by it, invisible just in case it woke up.

A logic puzzle. So far, the best defense of whatever the Headmaster was guarding here. Most Wizards haven't an ounce of logic.

And then nothing. There was nothing in the next room at all.

Loki let off a string of words that would have added several more quarters to the Swear Jar, then began sealing the rooms, one by one, to insure no one could come to them. A spell cast on the troll made sure it would never wake up, even as it slowly starved to death. The only door Loki didn't seal completely was the entrance to the Cerberus' room, but only the Headmaster and the Groundskeeper would be allowed in.

With his task done, Loki transformed back into an owl, and flew to the Hufflepuff dorms. He certainly wouldn't be staying with those other owls. That place stank terribly.

* * *

Loki found himself disappointed. Hogwarts was the best magic school in the world? If that were true, how bad were the others.

A ghost – a  _ghost_  – taught History of Magic, and it wasn't even really History of Magic, but Lessons in Why You Don't Piss Off Goblins. The rest of the staff was living, at least, not that that amounted to much.

The potions teacher may have been a master of the subject, but he was a horrible teacher. Still, it wasn't as horrible as he a heard the Gryffindor/Slytherin class was. Apparently three cauldrons had exploded.

Transfiguration was headed by a strict woman (who was apparently Head of Gryffindor House  _and_  Deputy Headmistress on top of teaching Transfiguration), who would glare at Harry when he didn't do as she instructed (since Loki had taught him all that she was teaching him years ago) and never gave points to Harry when he proved that he could in fact do what she was asking, as well as everything else that was in their first year textbook.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher not only had a very fake stutter, but he was possessed. Loki made sure to keep Harry, and by default his new friends, sit at the very back of that class until Loki could find a way to rid the professor of the parasite.

The Herbology and Charms teachers at least knew what they were doing, but the others made Loki wonder about the teachers of the electives the students would be picking after their second year at Hogwarts was over.

Divination was a joke. The teacher used the overpowering smell of incense in her classroom to mask the smell of her drinking. The Care of Magical Creatures teacher had  _limbs_  missing, so Loki wasn't very impressed by his capability to teach.

The Muggle Studies teacher was wonderful, but teaching information  _at least_  fifty years out of date, and Loki wasn't entirely sure she'd ever been outside the Wizarding World, and Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were taught so well, even Loki learned a few new things.

Number of Teachers Loki liked: five.

Number of Teachers Loki didn't like: six.

Add in the Headmaster and Groundskeeper, neither of which Loki was fond of, and the flying instructor, who Loki didn't really care for either way, Hogwarts wasn't looking very good.

* * *

And then there was another troll. And another several dollars' worth of quarters Loki would be putting in the Swear Jar, regardless of the fact that he was an owl when he said them. What was the Headmaster thinking sending the students out of the hall? Not to mention the troll was supposedly  _in_  the Dungeons, and not only was the Slytherin common room there, but the Hufflepuff common room was extremely close to the Dungeons.

As for the professor that let the troll in, possessed or not, Loki would insure he couldn't harm Harry, or the other students, ever again.

Quirrell's replacement would be a boastful man named Gilderoy Lockhart, who reminded Loki of a horrible, smaller, and practically powerless version of Thor.

* * *

By the time the Christmas holidays came around, Loki had had enough, and pulled Harry from Hogwarts, dragging him back home to California. Harry hadn't protested as hard as Loki would have thought, the exciting newness of Hogwarts having worn off.

Loki glared at Tony and Clint, daring them to say something, as he began placing several large piles of quarters in the Swear Jar.

"He's not going back there. That place is insane." College until he could sit still for Dr. Strange, it was.

Loki would just have to take him back to Britain later to collect the items that would make him the Master of Death. And as for his plans to rule Midgard, well, perhaps Loki would put them off for now to stay with his family a little longer.

It would be years before he even thought of his plans to rule again, and by then he had abandoned them completely.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am accepting prompts on Fanfiction.net and Livejournal. For more information on prompts, click [here for FF.net](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/5241068/) and go to the Accepting Prompts Section, or click [here for livejournal](http://ihscribe.livejournal.com/557.html) and see the Accepting Prompts post.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Harry Barton-Stark (continued)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170029) by [IHScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHScribe/pseuds/IHScribe), [pupcuz1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pupcuz1/pseuds/pupcuz1)




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